Running Away
by Suicidal Tears
Summary: Sequel to Four Days' Time. Harry runs Hermione knows why. What will happen next is up to God, and not even he could have predicted this. New version of a chapter four up and finally chapter five!
1. Chapter One

_Harry wouldn't talk for a while until Hermione said, again, "I'm going to go set up the floo so you can talk to her, Harry, and you're not going to stop me."_

_"She's not HOME!" screamed Harry, finally snapping out of it._

_"And how exactly do you know this?" she screamed back._

_"Because she's standing right in front of me!" he screamed, noticing only after it was too late. He then ran- ran for his life- forgetting about magic and leaving a perfectly shocked Hermione behind. _

Harry…

He ran. He just flat out ran.

Running was something that he had become good at. He was proud of it, too. It was his comfort: running away from someone or some sort of situation that he didn't like, when he was threatened.

The rhythm of his shoes hitting the pavement over and over soon became relaxing to him. That's what he really needed now: relaxation. He ran mornings when Hermione wasn't there, just to calm himself down.  He ran for comfort, and he ran for fear.

He, Harry Potter, had just told the _biggest_ secret that he had kept hidden from the entire world for eight years.

He ran. He ran and he thought. He ran, thought, and soon passed very familiar territory. He had ran from his flat, passed the house he stayed at in Surry, and down to the bench across from the park where he had ran away in his third year… where he had first seen Sirius. He had run _far_.

He checked his watch. 11:30. He had run for over an hour straight. A second later, he found his drivers license, both Muggle and wizarding money, and coat in hand, along with his wand. The coat went on quickly - the cold had just gotten to him.

He walked half a mile more to a local hotel. Lucky for him, he was able to get a room and pay it in full.  Checkout wasn't even until eleven am. _Enough time to sleep and think_.

As Harry was walking into his room that he was shown to by the clerk he thought  he had gotten a really strange look. Then he noticed that he was still in his clothes from the wedding. He waved his hand, putting himself in a pair of boxers and a plain shirt to match.

He strode over to the door leading to the bathroom, splashing cold water on his face. He still could believe that he had told: he'd never be able to face her again!

He'd never be able to face her again. _Now, there's a solution_, he thought. It was settled. How, he didn't know, but he had an idea…

Hermione…

She was shocked. He had run. He had run- away from her; away from the woman he supposedly loved since his sixth year in Hogwarts. Her mind was racing.

Her first thought: why? Why would he run from his love?

Her second: how? How could he run from his love?

Her third: recollection. He had run away from her in their sixth year… so why not now?

Her fourth: fear. What had Harry done when he ran away before? She had a feeling that she knew what he did, but he never mentioned it and that's not something that you just ask out in the open: "Hey, Harry! When you ran away from me in our sixth year, did you do something stupid? Like cutting yourself or trying to commit suicide like the rumors say you did?"

Her fifth: well, she wasn't sure, really. Did she love him? He had just admitted to it… but she still didn't know if she loved him. Yes, when she was around him, she felt… whole, complete… like how you would want to feel when you were with someone for the rest of your life. Harry made her feel like she was actually someone special. Yes, when people said 'this way, Mr. Potter, Mrs. Potter,' she had blushed and liked the sound of that… but was it really love? To be honest, she really hadn't thought about these feelings before…

Her sixth and final: Yes. But now, she needed to find him: where would he run? To whom would he run? Would he run to anybody? _What will he do?! _She added franticly.

Too bad for Hermione that Harry already had an escape plan; he was far too good at escaping by now. He also had his mind made up, and recently, when he made up his mind, there was no stopping him.

But just because Harry Potter had up and completely left the wizarding world didn't mean that Hermione Granger, the most clever witch of her age, wouldn't be able to find him.

_Harry's smart, _she thought, _he wouldn't do anything like that…would he?_


	2. Chapter Two

Harry...  
  
The next morning Harry awoke, thinking, time to put my plan into action.  
  
Harry then went down to the front desk, after he cleaned his room as well as he could, to talk to the few people who had saw him enter yesterday. So, that'd be the man at the front desk and that one boy, he concluded.  
  
The man at the front desk was easy enough to locate: he was still there.  
  
"May I talk to you?" Harry asked as politely as he could.  
  
"Sure..." said the man, thought not looking it at all.  
  
Harry led him into a room, located a chair and told him to sit.  
  
"Why?"  
  
"This will be so much easier if you just cooperated," said Harry.  
  
The man hesitantly sat.  
  
"There, now that wasn't so hard now, was it?"  
  
The man started to say something, but Harry interrupted, saying, "That was a rhetorical question, now."  
  
The man just huffed. Harry glared at this huff. He then concentrated on erasing just the fact that the man had saw Harry.  
  
Soon after, when the man blinked, he asked, "who are you?"  
  
Harry smiled.  
  
"This way, and back to you job now."  
  
Harry quickly led him back to the front desk and concentrated on erasing both of the little memory that they had of him before quickly Apparating away.  
  
Harry was so proud of his accomplishment that he totally forgot about that one boy who led him to his room...  
  
He Apparated to an empty ally way nearby, and walked to the park. Harry took out his driver's license, changing his name to James Evans. His jet- black hair turned a medium-dark shade of brown growing a little bit longer, too, and he changed his eyes to a soft blue. He made himself about an inch or so taller and a few pounds lighter. Looking down at his picture, he noted that he needed to hide his scar and did so: both on the ID and on him. Then he left, Aparating to go get the things he needed.  
  
The first thing, his name, he couldn't do anything permanent about, seeing as he would just have to get used to being called James now instead of Harry.  
  
As he was walking, he risked changing his hair from its normal jet-black to the medium-dark brown. Luckily for him, no one saw, even when it did grow longer.  
  
He then started toward an eyeglass place, hoping they'd be able to lead him to where he could get some tinted contacts. On the way, he didn't dare to grow taller, but felt the few pounds shed off easily.  
  
The place that he went to was able to make his light blue-tinted contacts in about an hour, though it did take some time for them to find Harry's last prescription. Seeing as he was at his full 5'9" now, he didn't think that he'd be able to explain why he had grown two, three extra inches in less than an hour. So he waited.  
  
Once his contacts were made, in, and he was the few inches taller, he left, pausing just for a second- to see his 'new look'. He simply saw his life slipping by: no more Harry Potter, no more childhood. No more being me, he thought.  
  
He quickly walked away, wiping those thoughts from his mind. He then walked to a local diner, ordering fish and chips, just to not eat them, and a glass of champagne. To new looks, a new life, and a new me, he thought, and toasted to it.  
  
Hermione...  
  
It had been two weeks, and there was absolutely no sign of Harry Potter anywhere: muggle or wizarding London, nor anywhere else- ANYWHRE! She had looked in all of Europe within the first four days (she had spent the first two looking over all of London, wizarding and muggle). The next twelve days she spent looking at the different continents; every two days, a new one. She had thought of giving up, but then the thought of that Hermione Granger never gives up! entered her mind. So she hadn't, and won't.  
  
She didn't know what she'd do, but she'd figure it out.  
  
So at the end of this horrific two-week look, she decided to go treat herself to lunch at the Three Broom Sticks.  
  
She went to go sit down at the bar in front by Madame Rosmerta, sitting down next to a man with long brown hair.  
  
Harry... erm... James...  
  
Two days into his new life, Harry was positive- erm, James... excuse me- that the money he had kept out of his vault wouldn't be enough. He'd have enough for, per se, two weeks, but that was about it. He was currently rooming with a man named Tyler (AN: I just HAD to put you in here... don't change it... you don't have THAT big of a part... haha) who was attending a local university. Ha- James had decided that muggle London would be the best.  
  
Now, twelve days later, the day H-James was dreading finally came: the day that he needed to travel to Diagon Ally. How strange, he mused that one day, that only changing a few of my features has me looking like a totally different person. At least, he hoped.  
  
James sighed, not wanting to open the doors to The Leaky Cauldron. Stepping foot into the Leaky Cauldron, no one seemed to recognize him, so he let out the breath that he had been holding in.  
  
He walked by Tom, deciding to test out his new look for the first time.  
  
"One Firewisky, please," said James.  
  
"Coming right up, sir," said the bartender.  
  
"I don't believe we've met," said James, accepting the glass and extending his hand.  
  
"Tom, please."  
  
"Nice to meet you, Tom. I'm James."  
  
"Yes," said Tom, "nice to meet you." He paused for a moment, smiling his normal, tooth-less grin. "Have I seen you somewhere before?"  
  
Harry gulped down some firewisky, chocking on it as Tom said this. "No, not unless you've been in Muggle London lately."  
  
"Oh, sorry. You just remind me of one of us who just went missing not but two weeks ago." His smile visibly decreased.  
  
James dropped his jaw. "Who?" he asked, trying to look shocked.  
  
"Harry Potter," said Tome quietly.  
  
"I'll be sure to keep an eye out for him for you, Tom," he said.  
  
"So, you know our Mr. Potter then," said Tom, his toothless smile showing once again.  
  
He cringed inwardly at being called that. At HARRY being called that, he argued with himself.  
  
"How wouldn't I? Everyone knows him." How strange... I'm referring to myself as third person, thought James. No, you're referring to HARRY. You're James! He argued with himself.  
  
"True," said Tom, winking as James put down his empty glass. He pretended to give the bartender a questioning look. He knew that wink all too well. He knows was all that he could think.  
  
"Don't worry, Mr.? I wouldn't think-"  
  
"Please, just call me James."  
  
"Yes. Hope to see you soon, James."  
  
Harry flipped a galleon on the counter, knowing that it was too much, but he didn't care. Not like he had anything smaller, either.  
  
He took out his wand (his hand wouldn't work to tap the bricks), tapping the correct bricks. Stepping into Diagon Ally, he shuddered at all the memories that came flooding back. Now was not the best time for them to do so, either.  
  
Harry wiggled his fingers (very difficulty, at that because they were in his pockets) and his key was soon within them. Very handy, no? he thought to himself.  
  
Quickly changing back to Harry Potter, so he was able to get out some money legally, without hassle, he entered, walking over to a free goblin.  
  
"I wish to have a quarter of a thirty-second of the money in my vault. Then, I'd like the rest split in two, one in the name of Hermione Potter, and the other kept safe for me while I am temporally away."  
  
"That is an awful large amount of money, Mr. Potter."  
  
"How much would that be in pounds?  
  
The goblin just looked at him. "That would be 1,782,771 odd galleons, Mr. Potter."  
  
"I'm sorry, but I don't know what that would be in pounds."  
  
"That would be, roughly, eight million-"he was cut off by the look 'Harry' was giving him. AN: Ok, this is getting quite confusing. I guess it's Harry right now because he is Harry. Oh well, too bad!  
  
'Harry's' jaw dropped. He knew he had a nice fund, but that was... that was unreal! He was to awe struck to do anything but stare.  
  
"So, how much would you like to take out of that, Mr. Potter?" asked the goblin after a whiles pause.  
  
Harry thought about this for a moment and then said, "Take off another thirty-second off that, please."  
  
"So that's 274,658.20 pounds, sir."  
  
"Sure," he said, still shocked at the fact that he had all that money.  
  
"Wait here, please," said the goblin, going to get Harry his money. A few moments later he came back, saying, "Hand, please. This only allows you to take out the money."  
  
"Yes," he said, shocking the goblin in return for once. He mumbled a broom in return for the shocked look.  
  
After a while the goblin said, "I hope you aren't walking around with that amount of money in your pocket, Mr. Potter."  
  
"Oh, no. It's going into a muggle savings account."  
  
"Oh," he replied, not the least bit interested... not that he should be.  
  
Harry took his money, and before stepping out, changed back into James. It was now lunchtime and his stomach rumbled that it wanted something to eat. He made his way toward the Three Broom Sticks to eat there one last time, not knowing that he would run into a 'friend'...

!!!!!

I'm very bad and I'm sorry. My beta wasn't able to beta it and I guess didn't update for me, so I'm updating again! I'm so sorry that I didn't soon! Please, read and review and DON'T KILL ME!


	3. Chapter Three

_AN: This story can go two ways: I've decided to post it this way first, and this is the last chapter of Running Away.... Now I'm making this one Running Away 1 and the other one will be posted under Running Away 2. The beginning is the same way, but that's all right, I guess. The other one is longer than three chapters, but ends with Running Away 2. I have no clue what I'll be calling the third part to it, though. I'm really falling behind, aren't I? Hmn... maybe I need a break! I dunno, though. We'll see, I guess. Next chapter is a response to what reviews I've gotten before next Thursday. Thanks! Niahiem 3  
_  
!!!!!  
  
"Hello, Madame Rosmerta," said a very familiar voice. At this quite, erm, 'lovely' voice, the Harry in James decided to tense up, but luckily not visibly.  
  
"Hello, Hermione, dear," she replied. _Yup_, he thought, I_ got the right voice._ Next thing he knew, Hermione and Madame Rosmerta were helping him up off of the floor.  
  
"Oh, sorry 'bout that," he said, blushing. He was mentally hitting himself for two reasons: one, for falling off the chair, and two, for blushing. He thought that those two were dead give-a-ways.  
  
_Now where have I seen that before?_ thought Hermione.  
  
"It's no problem, dear," said Madame Rosmerta. "I don't believe that we've met before. I'm Rosmerta and this here is Hermione."  
  
"Nice to meet you," he said, shaking both of their hands in turn. "James," he added before either of them could ask.  
  
"What a pleasure to met you, too, James. Isn't it, Hermione?"  
  
"What? Oh, yes," she said, getting an elbow in the ribs from Madame Rosmerta, "Sorry, blanked out there. Have we met before? Something about you seems very familiar to me."  
  
"Nope. Unless, that is, you travel to and from muggle London. I hear that Harry Potter is missing," he said, changing the subject.  
  
Hermione's face visibly went into a frown. "Yes," she said.  
  
James frowned in return. "Were you and Harry close?"  
  
"Close?" said Madame Rosmerta, "Where one was, you could always find the other was. I'm surprised that Harry wasn't dating her. It was so obvious! They flirted like there was no tomorrow."  
  
At this, Hermione started to sob. Madame Rosmerta came around to comfort her. "What's wrong?" she asked.  
  
"He confessed. Before he- disappeared, he told me that the girl he fancied for the whole time had been me! I feel so bad because we got into an argument before-before-I didn't believe when he said that she wasn't home, I brought up being serious, I did everything wrong! I could have stopped him from leaving! Oh my god!" she sobbed, barley taking a breath. _(AN: Hmm... it seems that Hermione hasn't told them that he didn't disappear, but ran away... wonder what that'll do.)_  
  
"Oh my," was all that Madame Rosmerta could manage, so James took over, taking Hermione out and down the road.  
  
"It's all right, Hermione. It will be all right. I'm almost positive that wherever he is, he's thinking about you. He could never forget you, especially if he loves you. It's just something that you can't forget easily, no matter how hard you try. Trust me, I know," said James, and he was speaking the truth- he couldn't stop thinking about Hermione... well, the Harry in him couldn't.  
  
Hermione wiped away the tears. "What do you know?" she snapped, "You didn't loose the one you loved!"  
  
"You're right; I didn't loose my love, I left her. Right now, she's probably crying her head off of yelling and taking her anger out on someone else."  
  
"I'm sorry," she said, bowing her head and taking a seat on a bench, "but may I ask why you left her if you loved her?"  
  
"It's complicated," he said, sitting down next to Hermione, putting his arm around her shoulders, but saw her frown, "But I'll try to explain. My girlfriend wasn't exactly my girlfriend, but we were really close, always flirted, and hung out together. _Everybody_ said that I should ask her out, but I was afraid. I just came from the states, but before I moved here, we went to a movie, coming back to an empty house and talked. We did that a lot. Then it slipped that I liked her. I was so terrified that I ran. I haven't seen her since, but that doesn't stop me from thinking about her constantly. I love and miss her so much."  
  
"So why don't you go back to her?"  
  
"It's not that easy, though I wish it would be. I told her that I loved her for a very long time, but I'm not sure how she feels for me. I also just upped and left her. I don't think that she'd ever be able to forgive me for that. I didn't explain anything to her at all... I just upped and left. God I feel so bad for doing that. I want her to live a normal life. Back in the states, I'm an author and I travel a lot. I can't make her do that when she has her job and all. She loves her job."  
  
"Why would you think that she wouldn't love you back? If you were _that_ close, there's a ninety-nine point nine percent of a chance that she loves you back."  
  
"Yes, I know. But what if she doesn't?"  
  
"She does. Harry said the same thing, but I found out that I loved him back after it was too la-"she said, stopping only when Hedwig flew down onto her shoulder. "Hedwig!" she exclaimed.  
  
"Who's she?"  
  
"This is Harry's owl!"  
  
"Looks like he sent you something then," he said, pointing to the note attached to her leg. She read:  
  
_Dear Hermione,  
I know it might be hard for you to understand why I left you, but I really do care about you. I hope you lead a good life, even without me. Oh, by the way, I just stopped by Gringotts not but a half hour ago. I took out some money and splint the rest in two: one to Harry Potter, and the other for Hermione Potter. I hope you don't mind. Here's the key. You know officially have 114,069,503 galleons, 3 sickles, and 24 knuts in the account. I hope you enjoy and don't miss me too much, thought I know that I'll think of you everyday and more.  
  
All my love,  
Harry James Potter  
_  
"Sounds like her really loves you," said James.  
  
Hermione wiped away the free-falling tears and said, "If he really loved me, he'd come back."  
  
The Harry in James hated to see Hermione like this, so he said, "If he did come back, right now, what would you say to him?"  
  
Hermione looked puzzled but answered anyways; "I'd say that I'm sorry and that I love him. I'll tell him how much I love him and that I'm sorry. I don't think that I'd have the heart to yell at him. I'd just want to go home with him like old times, but preferably as boyfriend and girlfriend. We'd snuggle up on the couch in his flat and watch a movie. Dobby would have hot chocolate ready whenever we wanted it."  
  
By now, Hermione was sobbing into James's chest. James turned back into Harry, hopping what Hermione said was true.  
  
"It's okay, Mione, Harry's back," he said. Hermione didn't even notice being called Mione and said, "Whoever it is you see, isn't him! He just upped and left me. He won't come back."  
  
He quickly pulled Hermione off of him, saying, "I'm sorry, Mione. I'll go now."  
  
"Harry?" she asked quickly. When no response came, she looked up to see her Harry walking down the road: hands in pockets, head bowed. She watched him walk awhile longer before she realized what she'd done by leaving him walk.  
  
"Harry!" she yelled, getting up to run after him. He didn't stop, so she started to run after him. But now Harry was a good while in front of her and the road was packed full of people. She dashed around the people, hoping to catch up to Harry. Soon she saw him turn and she knew where he was going: home. She smiled and continued on home.  
  
_AN: and they lived happily ever after. Oops, sorry, they don't live happily ever after for a while. Shall I end it here? Post more? Haha... it all rests in my hands!_


	4. Chapter Four

Pulling away from Hermione, Harry started walking away. He heard his name being call, but couldn't stop: she said those things, but he knew she didn't mean any of them. He didn't feel like going back to muggle London nor changing back to James. His feet led him to his flat without Harry even noticing. Opening the door, Harry was immediately tackled by Dobby.  
  
"Dobby is so happy to see Master Harry, sir! Where he-"  
  
He was quickly cut off as Harry left, going up the stairs. He flicked his hand and the door locked. Slumping on his bed, his eyes looked up at the ceiling of his room. Soon, his bright emerald eyes that once shone with unshed tears were now looking rather dead and pale, like as when he came back from defeating Voldemort.  
  
His eyes were dull and dead for a different reason: having done what he did and became: being a murder. He had fallen trapped to Dumbledore by then end of his sixth year and there was no way to pull out.  
  
His eyes now were an exact image pure of sadness and alone-ness. He had a chance to live a normal life after defeating Voldemort.... if he only had just asked Hermione to go out with him, but instead- he didn't. He could have had anything he wanted, but he knew he didn't deserve it, nor did he know that Hermione had felt the same way about him. Now he knew that she did, though he couldn't stand to be yelled at like she had been doing so to James.  
  
Pulling himself into the shell that he had done after Sirius' death, Remus' death, Ron's death, and everybody else's, a single lone tear traced the very familiar path down his cheek, off his chin, and down onto the bed.  
  
!!!!!  
  
Hermione walked into the house. Soon, a hysteric Dobby rammed into her.  
  
"What's the matter, Dobby?" she asked.  
  
"Master Harry came home," he hiccupped, "and ignored Dobby. Dobby was bad, very bad, 'Ne."  
  
"No, Dobby. You weren't bad. Harry's just going through a very tough time right now. I'm going to go talk to him right now, Dobby. I'll be down later."  
  
Making her way up the green-carpeted stairwell that Harry had just made his way up not but moments ago; she made her way to his room. Trying the doorknob, it wouldn't turn. Sighing, she pulled out her wand and tapped the doorknob muttering a quick Alohomora.  
  
Upon entering, she took a deep breath, not sure of what she'd tell him or what he'd do. Pushing the door open very slowly (inches at a mere moment), she took in the sight before her: Harry, looking up at the ceiling with a tear going slowly down a path she'd seen it take several times before. Expecting more to come, she just stood, not wanting to make herself present quite yet.  
  
When Harry didn't move, she knew something was wrong. Slowly edging her way to the bed, she looked at Harry. As she slowly let out a breath she'd been holding in, she realized that he was a shell- again- like so many times before: sixth year, after Sirius' death and on his 18th birthday, when he had to battle Voldemort who took away Remus, Ron (Ginny being in St. Mungo's), Dumbledore, Tonks.... the list just goes on....  
  
Before, with Sirius, it had taken until past Christmas- and that was with the help of Remus and everybody else. This past one had taken all of two years and more, though they didn't know that the real reason wasn't that he had lost so many people (he was used to this part), but that Voldemort had used them to get to Harry- and Dumbledore knew all along, too. That night, Harry became a murder to two people, though they only thought he killed one.... but Harry had really killed Dumbledore, too- he didn't die trying to fight of Death Eaters as they so highly thought of him.  
  
What made it even harder on Hermione was the fact that she had cause Harry to be in this right state- and that hurt a lot. She bowed her head and made her way around to the other side of the bed.  
  
Climbing onto the bed, she never took her eyes off of Harry in hope that he'd all of a sudden jump up and shout, "surprise!" or something along the lines of that. But he never did. She crawled along and up to Harry, using his chest as a pillow. Running her hand through his unruly jet-black hair that she had grown to love, she muttered an 'I love you, Harry,' before finally wiping away the tear that had fallen from his right eye.  
  
Getting up for a moment, she gently laid a kiss on his forehead before finally took his hand and laid her head back down on his chest. Covering his hand with feathery light kisses, she held onto it like it was her last lifeline. She fell into a deep slumber, hoping to wake up and Harry was his old self again.  
  
Finally, waking up to a bright light in her face, Hermione stretched and wiggled to get in a more comfortable position again. Her eyes suddenly fluttered open. Wondering what he comfy pillow was, she turned and looked to see Harry in the same position as before she fell asleep. Her mood immediately saddened. Giving a quick sigh, she sat up and called for Dobby. Seconds later, he appeared at the foot of the bed.  
  
"What can Dobby do for 'Ne?"  
  
"Can you please have breakfast ready for me in half an hour? I'll have it in here if you don't mind," she said, putting on a false smile.  
  
"Dobby never minds, oh no! It will be ready for you, 'Ne!"  
  
With that, he left to go get breakfast. Hermione got up herself and went to the library. Summoning the books that would help with the state Harry was in, she made them go to Harry's bedroom: she was in for a long day of reading.  
  
Four days of reading later, she was done with the all the books.  
  
Harry had only gotten up four times, each once a day to go to the bathroom. He always came back the same way, not even acknowledging Hermione the least bit.  
  
Pulling herself away from Harry's room for the first time in four days (except to go to the bathroom), she made her way to her room to get a clean set of muggle clothes and then made her way to the bathroom to take a shower.  
  
A half an hour later, she was ready to leave.... telling Dobby that she'd be back within two hours.  
  
!!!!!  
  
"May I help you with something, miss?" asked the Liberian.  
  
"What? Oh, yes. One of my friends has, well, he's taken his mind away from his body and I can't exactly figure a way to help him. It's happened before, but then he had the help of several other people, but they have all died since.  
  
"Oh my, I'm sorry. Yes, right this way."  
  
!!!!!  
  
At the library, Hermione had found out some very interesting things. Some of the things sounded foolish, but she was willing to try anything to get her Harry back. Upon entering the house, she transformed into one of her more cuddly Animagus forms. Placing paw after paw, paw after paw, she quietly made her way to Harry's room in the form of Boots, a black kitten with white paws.  
  
Jumping up on the bed, she barley made a change to quilt with her weight. Pawing her way over to Harry, she gave a soft meow. Cocking her head to the left, she attentively put a paw on Harry's left leg. He didn't move, so she put up a second paw. She repeated this action until she was fully on Harry leg. She meowed once more- still nothing.  
  
Making the best sigh at kitten could give; she carefully stepped forward until she reached mid-thigh where his hand was. She nudged it, lick it, practically begging to be petted or at least acknowledged. Meowing once again, she stepped forward to his chest where she curled up into a ball. As a last attempt, she meowed a final time. She then rested her head in paws and quickly fell asleep.... with the rising and falling motion of his chest as her lullabye.  
  
Waking, as though she felt eyes on her, she carefully raised her head. Giving a fetal meow, she though to herself, _falling asleep in a kitten form is not that easy on your body_.  
  
Quickly looking around the room, she saw no one. Getting worried, she looked at Harry. His head was propped up on a pillow looking down at her with a slight smile on his perfect red lips.  
  
"Boots," he said, as he started a hand toward the kitten. She stretched before his hand came in contact with her body. His hand then landed on her stomach and she started to purr as he scratched her belly. Soon after it stopped, she looked up with a kitten-puzzled look on her face.  
  
As she did this, a flash of jet-black fur pounced on her. The black kitten, whose name was Shadow, had Boots pinned down with his front paws on her upper chest, back legs straddling hers. Giving a kitten-moan, they both turned into play-mode. Using her back legs, she pushed him off of herself. As he was getting up, she was looking him in the eye. _They were green again_, she noted. She gave a kitten-smile and pounced Harry this time.  
  
An hour later, they were both kitten-panting. They then made their way down to the kitchens where Dobby was. Boots meowed at him when he put down two bowls of water.  
  
"Good kitty's," he said, patting each one on the head in turn.  
  
Once in Harry's bedroom again, they both curled up with each other. Boots licked Shadow on the face. He smiled the best a kitten could and rested his head in his paws. Falling asleep quickly, Boots jumped off the bed and transformed back into Hermione. Sighing, she looked down at the other kitten. She quickly and quietly conjured up some parchment and a quill to write a note to Harry that she'd be waiting downstairs when he woke up. 


	5. Chapter Five

Pulling away from Hermione, Harry started walking away. He heard his name being call, but couldn't stop: she said those things, but he knew she didn't mean any of them. He didn't feel like going back to muggle London nor changing back to James. His feet led him to his flat without Harry even noticing. Opening the door, Harry was immediately tackled by Dobby.

"Dobby is so happy to see Master Harry, sir! Where did he-"

He was quickly cut off as Harry left, going up the stairs. He flicked his hand and the door locked. Slumping on his bed, his eyes looked up at the ceiling of his room. Soon, his bright emerald eyes that once shone with unshed tears were now looking rather dead and pale, like as when he came back from defeating Voldemort.

His eyes were dull and dead for a different reason: having done what he did and became: being a murder. He had fallen trapped to Dumbledore by then end of his sixth year and there was no way to pull out.

His eyes now were an image of sadness and aloneness. He had a chance to live a normal life after defeating Voldemort…. if he had just asked Hermione to go out with him, but instead-he didn't. He could have had anything he wanted, but he knew he didn't deserve it, nor did he know that Hermione had felt the same way. Now he knew that she did, though he couldn't stand to be yelled at like she had been doing so to James.

Pulling himself into the shell that he had done after Sirius' death, Remus' death, Ron's death, and everybody else's, a single lone tear traced the very familiar path down his cheek, off his chin, and down onto the bed.

((... Hermione ...))

Hermione walked into the house. Soon, a hysteric Dobby rammed into her.

"What's the matter, Dobby?" she asked.

"Master Harry came home," he hiccupped, "and ignored Dobby. Dobby was bad, very bad, 'Ne."

"No, Dobby. You weren't bad. Harry is just going through a very tough time right now. I'm going to go talk to him right now, Dobby. I'll be down later."

Making her way up the green-carpeted stairwell that Harry had just made his way up not but moments ago; she made her way to his room. Trying the doorknob, it wouldn't turn. Sighing, she pulled out her wand and tapped the doorknob muttering a soft Alohomora.

Upon entering, she took a deep breath, not sure of what she'd tell him or what he'd do. Pushing the door open very slowly (inches at a mere moment), she took in the sight before her: Harry, looking up at the ceiling with a tear going slowly down a path she'd seen it take several times before. Expecting more to come, she just stood, not wanting to make herself present quite yet.

When Harry didn't move, she knew something was wrong. Slowly edging her way to the bed, she looked at Harry. Slowly letting out a breath she'd been holding in, she just realized that he was a shell- again- like so many times before: sixth year, after Sirius' death and on his 18th birthday, when he had to battle Voldemort who took away Remus, Ron, Ginny being in St. Mungo's, Dumbledore, Tonks…. the list just goes on….

That night, Harry became a murder to two people. Not only did he kill Voldemort, he killed one more. He killed Dumbledore, oh yes he did. Now with the weight of having to kill a reigning dark lord off his hands, he had the weight of killing- not only one, but two people.

Climbing onto the bed, she never took her eyes off of Harry in hope that he'd all of a sudden jump up and shout, "surprise!" or something along the lines of that. But he never did. She crawled along and up to Harry, using his chest as a pillow. Running her hand through his unruly jet-black hair that she had grown to love, she muttered an 'I love you, Harry,' before finally wiping away the tear that had fallen from his left eye.

Getting up for a moment, she gently laid a kiss on his forehead before finally took his hand and laid her head back down on his chest. Covering his hand with feathery light kisses, she held onto it like it was her last lifeline. She fell into a deep slumber, hoping to wake up and Harry was his old self again.

((...time lapse...))

Finally waking up to a bright light in her face, Hermione stretched and wiggled to get in a more comfortable position again. Her eyes suddenly fluttered open. Wondering what her comfy pillow was, she turned and looked to see Harry in the same position as before she fell asleep. Her mood immediately saddened. Giving a quick sigh, she sat up and called for Dobby. Seconds later, he appeared at the foot of the bed.

"What can Dobby do for 'Ne?"

"Can you please have breakfast ready for me in half an hour? I'll have it in here if you don't mind," she said, putting on a false smile.

"Dobby never minds, oh no! It will be ready for you, Ne!"

"Harry," whispered Hermione. "Harry? Oh, please, Harry, talk to me! You never let me have a say in all of this!" she said, exasperated.

Harry blinked. He never thought of that. What was her say? That he was a total and complete jerk? He snorted.

"No, Harry, you're not a jerk," she said before being pushed out of Harry's mind.

"Never thought you would sink that low, Hermione," said Harry and sat up.

"Well," she said in a huff and sat down, "at least you're talking to me. Now would you mind listening to me?"

He glared. "Fine."

"I'm going to tell you a story," said Hermione and sat down.

"I'm not going to-" started Harry, but Hermione interrupted.

"Just listen," she said and pushed him back down.

"I'm going to tell you a story." And so she started.


	6. Chapter Six

Once upon a time, there was a girl.

She grew up as a muggle, not knowing that magic existed.

Once she was eleven and received her letter for Hogwarts school of Witchcraft and Wizardry, she was shocked to say the least.

But a funny-looking woman came at her house later that day and changed herself into a cat and back again. The girl was amazed and begged her parents to let her go to Hogwash. "Hogwarts, Dear," corrected the teacher. She mumbled an apology and her parents agreed and the teacher took them to Diagon Ally.

There they proceeded to change muggle money into magical money, as she called it.

Their first stop, by demand of the little girl, was the bookstore. Her parents allowed her to get ten extra books, and only ten. She nodded and ran off. The teacher was shocked that they were letting her get so many books, but they said she'd understand once she taught their daughter.

She came back with eleven books and begged her parents to let her get the extra book; that she couldn't decided which of the one she would put back. Her parents said no. Sighing, she asked if they'd let her get it if she gave up sweet until she went to the school. Her parents were very impressed and said that if she kept her part, they'd come back the day before school and buy her a treat of five more. She hastily agreed to the offer and left the store. Soon after, they had all of the things she needed for school and left for home.

Before the end of the next day, she had finished one of her new favorite books.

She walked down to the kitchen to get something to eat and met here mom there.

"How was your reading?" she asked.

"Excellent," said the girl. After a pause, she said, "I'm going to marry Harry Potter."

"Who?" her mother asked.

"Harry Potter. He saved the whole world from this evil wizard, can't say his name, but everyone calls him he-who-must-not-be-named, when he was only one."

"Is that good enough of a reason to marry him? Just because of his ability to save the world when he was one?"

"No," she shook her head. "But I'm going to marry him. You'll see," she said to her mother. "I _will_ be Hermione Potter."

After her first year of schooling, her mother asked againif she was still going to marry Harry Potter.

"Of course I am," she said, sure of herself. "We're friends. He saved me from a troll." She scrunched up her nose. "He smelt."

"Who? The troll or Harry?" her father asked.

"The troll," she said, like they should have known. "Then I helped him from a teacher trying to kill him. But we found out," she continued hastily at the look her parents gave her, "that he wasn't trying to kill him, just save him. We misunderstood."

"You and Harry?" her mother asked.

"And Ron," added Hermione. "Then we got past a three headed dog named Fluffy and I helped save the Sorcerer's Stone. Well, not really, I just gave Harry the right potion to go through the flames to get to the stone. I went back and took Ron to the hospital wing. Hewas knocked off his knight in the giant chess game before the potions," she said. "Harry ended up saving the stone."

"Good job?" he father asked, uncertainly.

"Yes, otherwise you-know-who would have come back to life."

The rest of the ride was spent in silence.

And all of her years at the school continued like this.

Fourth year she was ecstatic because she kissed Harry Potter. Sixth year, she was destroyed because she agreed to go out with Ron.

She didn't know, but she didn't want to marry Harry Potter anymore. She wanted to marry the man, yes man, whom she had grown close to over the years; the man whom she loved with all of her heart and more

So why not just tell him and get it over with?

He was popular and handsome and all the girls wanted him. She was just plain and ordinary… why would _the _Harry Potter want to marry a plain girl like her.

But they because closer and closer and _closer _friends yet. And then he made the slip-up of saying that he loved her. But then he ran away.

And here they are now.

She doesn't want to marry _the _Harry Potter, the one who saved the wizarding world. She wants to marry Harry Potter, the man who loves her. Loved her. Which one is it? Loves or loved? But he's scared she'll say no, but she still wants to marry him, oh hell yes she does! And if she doesn't ask him soon, she'll do it herself!

((… with that, Hermione ended her story …))

"Hermione Granger," he said, and went over to his bed-side table and pulled out a small, dusty black box.

"Hermione Granger," he said again, and put down the box.

He put the box down in front of her, on the bed.

"Hermione Granger," he said one last time, and opened the box slowly, "would you like to wear my mothers engagement ring?"

It was simple and plain, yet the most beautiful thing she had ever seen. It was a single diamond, with little emerald placed carefully around.

She picked it up and put it on slowly. "No," she said, and smiled sofry, "but Hermione Potter sure would."


End file.
